


Kingdom Come

by Noid



Category: Kingdom, Kingdom: New Lands
Genre: Angst, Based off Kingdom game, Female Protagonist, don't know how long this'll end up being
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 06:31:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16928238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noid/pseuds/Noid
Summary: A Queen has lost her home, and now ventures far away to reclaim her home from beasts of uncouth nature; beasts from the shadowed undergrowth of Hades' river. The weight of the world rests on the woman who took the safety of the crown into her hands.





	Kingdom Come

Youthful days had long since past. Shadows clawed through the corners of the woodlands called home and scarred the lands of the living for the human goods. In the wake of these plagues of creatures came nothing but despair and ruin. Buildings collapsed, fading into the motes and river dams of previous castles while the hardiest of weapons were stolen away with stored produce. Kleptomaniac thieves of the night, worse than rogues as not one showed remorse to the towns upon towns of citizens who fell to famine, disease from lack of medicine and the murder of the desperate people and wildlife.

Humans are at a battle that they had lost the minute the ambush had begun. Only few still cling to the forests bearings, hiding away amongst the thick shrubbery and gorging on the smallest foods they can find. Most do not make it, unable to comprehend the poisonous from the edible.

Morning rises slowly on a nameless day, but still, the morn remains as grey as a graveyard fog. Clear skies are not visible and thunder rumbles in the distance, like an old yawn from the sleeping Gods that had long since abandoned their children. It is not long before the rain weeps upon the quiet, wistful lands, showering all of the dead villages in an attempt to bless. But the blessings no longer matter as the rain collects the blood of the fallen and washes it into the valleys of old.

A lone survivor looks on, watching the rain fall before her and feeling it collect along her cold skin. 

It was unnamed day, a lonely day. The rain echoes in the forest, like a hushing lullaby for the weary children. All around are forming puddles, sweeping slowly through the old leaves of a past winter and trickling into the dens of what could possibly be only remaining wildlife. Her suspicions are confirmed as a grey rabbit suddenly scurried through the weeds with a damp coat, squeezing through the hole that surely leads to a place of warmth and homeliness. 

Her right hand picks up her skirts and she moves forward, feeling the damp material hang heavy at the hems from mud. The left hand clings firmly to leather reigns, which hangs well onto the muzzle of her horse. 

The horse is seemingly uncaring about the rain that crawls down from the skies. His eyes still sparkle with interest while his ears are pricked forward in concern and wonder. He steps with her, matching the care in her footwork and avoiding the slippery slopes that remain scattered all along the forest floor. Though his coat is damp, he appears relaxed and is not shivering. 

A sigh of relief sweeps through her. Should she lose her companion to anything, she would never forgive herself. Being truly alone in this world is something she cannot handle. Not right now- No. She couldn't ever handle it. The woman was empathetic, always feeling remorse for any that are in pain or dying. There's always a pain in her chest that leaves slowly, even after they have not spoken to her for hours. If she felt that from being around people, then the loneliness would be possibly unbearable. 

As her feet ache, she stops her trek, deciding its time to finally take a break. It is unknown how long she had been walking through the emerald forest, but she was certain it had been before dawn had even hit the surface of the Earth. Perhaps midnight then? She never liked sleeping into the night when it came to these creatures skulking about. They didn't mind fire either, and it only attracted them, as well as the smell of food. No chances could be taken in sleeping at night right now.

Guiding the great palomino horse to the sound of the rushing creek, the woman wonders solemnly if it would be best to relax near the water. It kept them colder but it was also a good way to keep water reserved in their bodies. Even as it rained, it was hard to get a mouthful from just tipping ones head back.

Her foot lands a few feet away from the creek bank and sinks deeply into the mud, almost past the remains of her current sandal. With a squeak, she pulls back and looks at the brown that stains her tearing shoes.

 _Oh well,_ she thinks. It could have been worse. Material goods aren't worth much anymore and maybe later she can somehow forge some of her own. Although, she had no idea on how to do that. 

Well, to be fair, she knew very little on how to survive. 

As her horse gathers his well-deserved drink, she too drops to her knees, uncaring of the soggy Earth and washes her hands, her face and drank. It was chilled water, which was an ache to her fingers but a blessing to her throat. As if having worked all day, the water traveled fast and one scoop between her hands was not enough. Three more times did she lift it to her lips, now uncaring of the cold that seeps to her fingers. It was worth the wait, this water.

The woman pulls back to look at her mount, who still has not finished his drink. It is not much of a surprise, as he is a much larger being than her. She takes this moment to lean over the water, pushing back her hair to peer into the quivering liquid. 

In the hazy reflection, she can see herself. Mud still lays itself well along her jawline and the bridge of her nose. Some of it had even managed to fleck itself up into her hairline, caking the obsidian color down in an uncomfortable pinch. Even after she had washed her face, it still remained on her skin. Keeping her hair up was something that glowed magnificently, even in the grey shadows of the forest as the color was always shimmering and clean. It had managed to withstand previous encounters, escapes and troubles, unscathed.

The Crown.

A hand reaches up and graces the tops of the wonderful piece. No longer did it mean anything in this realm. However, given the glow that radiates from it still, it is a valuable centerpiece for those that crawl from the depths of only-heaven-knows. As of now, it was still one of the only things that brought her a little bit of determination. Seeing it here reminded her of much she looks like her mother, who had died from falling down the steps of the palace in fear. An accident. A terrible, horrible accident. 

With a hand, she rubs away at her eyes, hoping to rid herself of the terrible images and the tears that threatens to fall with her hopes. 

The rain lessens eventually and she rides her companion bareback to another destination of the woods, her face washed and hands clean. The sun shines slowly, bare rays slipping through the greying clouds of the newborn afternoon. Despite the sun still being bright, the woman looks upwards, enjoying the heat and the brief satisfaction of life that came with the day and the yellow light. 

ᵀᴴᴵˢ ᵂᴬᵞ

The new voice that echoes in her head makes her jump a little, her elbows seizing up and her heart fluttering. For a moment, she stops shivering. Her companion also stops and perks his head up, letting his ears swivel to-and-fro for that whispered sound again. It comes again.

ᵀᴴᴵˢ ᵂᴬᵞ

Up ahead is the direction of the voice that caresses through her head like a cold blanket. She shudders but leans forward a little, squinting hard, wondering if that was an enemy, despite the glare of the sun hanging high overhead. 

As the figures outline shows itself, she gasps and reels back, tugging on the reigns to force her horse several steps back. In fear, he does so, pawing at the ground with his hooves with an eagerness to run.

A sad face stares at her, wet from past tears that had never dried. White hair hung in wispy strands and an old, tarnished crown sits crookedly upon his head. His robes are stained with blood, having long since dried from previous events of death and despair. His eyes are white, ghostly but not hollow, as he points towards the woodland area before him. His sentence repeats itself, forming an echo on his lips before he floats seamlessly away, his white figure flickering through the damp treeline. 

For some reason, she felt the need to follow him. It only made sense, despite him being clearly dead. Regardless, a sign from beyond the grave was usually one to take. 

Biting her lip, she steers the steed towards the direction he had been pointing and lets him take her there at a slow walk. His hooves consistently make noises as they are repeatedly swallow by the mud from his weight, but by this point she almost welcomes the noise. It's different than the millions of bugs she hears and the possibly howling of a wild wolf nearby. The thought of it made her shiver, encouraging her to follow the nameless spirit. 

It was an almost lazy walk, but it was a thankful one to be had. Some birds were flying about, singing blissfully and gathering any of the sprouted worms that had wiggled their way to the surface to avoid drowning in the pouring rain from only ten minutes ago or so. Even some rabbits were hopping about, grabbing rain-soaked flowers for a drink and nutrition that was equally shared with by deer. She could see their antlers from afar and could hear the shuffle of the hooves of the herd. 

For once, it was a peaceful time. But, lo, it would not last long at all.

The spirit now stops, having almost faded due to the light running through his transparent body. He points with a single finger towards a spot and says nothing more. 

The woman raises an eyebrow but decides to obey, tapping her heels gently on the damp sides of her companion. He moves into a trot and shakes his mane once there is a little more wind to his momentum. She sputters, using a single arm to cover her smiling face. Despite her efforts, she giggles and gently pats him on the neck, thankful for his playful gestures. It was a welcoming motion. 

A camp blossoms out slowly before her and her companion. Several gaunt and frightened faces looks up from their warm fire, staring openly at both her, the horse and the crown that glows on her head. She glances over her shoulder, looking for the spirit to tell her what to do further. To her surprise, the old man does not remain but in his place lies a sack that is clearly full of coins. By the way the bag dips and holds itself, it is clear what its made for.

The woman dismounts to go around behind her horse and take up the bag, feeling the contents of it between her cold fingers. Suddenly, she understands and holds the bag close to her chest.

It was time for her to begin again and lead the people she had never been able to protect before.


End file.
